


Árinnar

by kamaloca



Category: Norse Mythology, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamaloca/pseuds/kamaloca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of a young prince and a destroyer locked inside a prison of slumber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know if I will carry on with this story, and if I do, I can already promise that it will take me a very long time to update the chapters.
> 
> ...
> 
> This fic is both inspired by the 'Thor' movie, comics and norse mythology, but where the heck did I get the plot from? I don't know.

Many secrets are hidden away in Asgardia, most are well known but never mentioned. The old Gods share knowing, pained glances, but they never speak of what they fear. Those secrets are hidden within the walls of Asgard, the memories are left as scars within neighbouring realms. The children that live and grow within the walls of the the kingdom are surrounded by memories of destruction and creation, but rarely did they take notice. They were just artefacts of glorious battles which their fathers and mothers witnessed, they are just stories. 

Many curious things may happen when the past is brought back, when the Gods think that all evil has passed and that their solutions will keep their grips on their prisoners like the unbreakable chains that hold the monstrous wolf, the father of Skoll and Hati. The Gods forget and they let evil grow under their ignorance. 

From one of these feared treasures does a tale weave itself. The string has been pulled by the faits, it cannot be escaped and it cannot be changed, no matter what the Gods do, their fait will chase them, they brought it on themselves. 

 -

On the edge of the kingdom on a sun kissed meadow a young man notches his first arrow. Like a hatchling who crawled out of the nest for the first time, he looks into the distance, into the solid rows of weaving, curved oaks thats shadow the woods.

‘Now pull the string, aim and shoot, Thor!’ The golden haired maiden instructs the young prince.

Without complaining, Thor does as he is told. The prince could already see Sif’s smirk when the arrow wavers in the air and completely misses its aim. The hand that held the arrow notched relaxes and the string snaps, sending the arrow into the air. The flight of the first arrow would’ve been perfect if not for another limb of a bow had smashed into the back of Thor’s ankles making him aim higher into the air, above the oaks and into the sky. 

After the arrow disappeared in the distance Thor turned to Sif with his jaw set tightly. ‘Why did you do that!?’ 

Sif was unable to answer, she was clutching onto her stomach attempting to suppress the fits of laughter. 

In mimicked anger Thor drew back his bow, aiming at Sif, as if he was about to land a blow on her. The maiden yelped, and scrambled away, still laughing breathlessly. The children squabbled in the mockery of a fight. Thor managed to hit Sif on the back of her knees with the bow, not harshly, but in return Sif ripped the bow from his grip and tackled him to the ground. The maiden then pulled the prince to his feet, neither apologized. 

‘That was a waste of an arrow.’ Sif noted as she cleaned away the clinging grass off her clothes.

‘And it was your fault.’ Thor bit back. 

‘You would’ve missed anyway, I made no difference.’ The maiden parried. ‘Go and get the arrow, you can’t shoot a bow with out having any arrows.’ 

‘But I don’t want to. I can always get more.’ Lazily Thor settled on the grass, throwing the bow away.

‘Is that what you are going to say in a battle? You better get used to using them, over and over again.’ Sif snipped back. 

‘Fine.’ The prince huffed and pushed himself to his feet. He was on the edge of the meadow when he noticed that Sif did not follow. ‘Are you not going to help me find the arrow?’ 

‘Your arrow, you mistake, not mine!’ Sif replied with a mischievous smirk, she then pulled out an arrow from the ground next to her, quickly notched it in her bow and aimed at Thor. The prince scurried into the woods, just in time when a arrow pierced the ground next to his foot as he jolted off the spot. 

The young maidens laughter reached Thor as he dwelled into the woods, he ignored it, cursing under his breath. Further and further Thor travelled into the woods, deep in his thoughts, looking down onto the ground and climbing over the roots of the ancient oaks. A the ever lasting summer light was dimmed by the thick cover of the leaves, creating a evening haze and every bump and root looked the same.

Before that day, Thor had explored these woods many times, they were just on the border of the gardens. From an early age Thor would escape there with his friends and they would practice sword play with wooden and blunt swords. They would run there, ignoring the warnings from their parents, they never saw what there is to fear. It was just the woods, with meadows, trees and wild animals. 

Only when Thor’s legs began to ache that he noticed that he wondered further than he ever did before, and that he forgotten about the arrow completely too. The oaks began to receded, leaving space for long grasses to sprouted with patches of wild flowers. Dotted around this strange land were ash trees, some were young and some were as old as the oaks. Their bark seemed to be bubbling and and twisting like muscle. The fields were endless, the grasses were nourished and every shade of green. 

Thor ploughed through the grass and hid under the shade of the ash trees from the midday blazing sun that scorched his skin. The endless sea of green was broken apart by a scar of trees that slithered through the land. Thor dashed towards the small oasis where he could hide away in the shadows and explore this new land further. 

The prince forced himself through the shrubs, careless of his steps, ripping his clothes away from the thrones of the branches. He harshly tugged on the fabric, but when he stepped further into the shadows his right foot felt no ground underneath it and Thor began to tumble down. A slope made of mud and pebbles met Thor underneath, the fall was small but harsh. When the slope ended Thor was engulfed by lazily running warm currents of water. Thor quickly stood from where he fell before he could be soaked through to the bone.

Curiously, the boy began to observe where fait had brought him. The scar of trees grew in rows around a shallow river, shadowing it and cooling down the water. In the river there were small islands of pebbled soil. The banks of the river were slippery with mud, the roots of the trees stuck out from the ground along with the veiny roots of the shrubs. Though the fall seemed quick and the banks were short, there was no way in which Thor could have climbed out. He could only choose a direction and hope that he would find an exit. 

After thoughtlessly choosing a direction Thor began to wonder further and further down the river. The depth of the water began to increase, engulfing Thor’s legs up to his knees, soaking his boots to the last thread. At least the current of the river did not change. But so far Thor could not see an escape. 

The ash trees began to disappear, the shrubs became more and more rare, instead colourful wild flowers hung down into the banks of the river. Eventually the slopes began to level out and the banks slowly fell down to the level of the water. It was easy to climb out, escape to the dry land, but something caught Thor’s eye. Just beyond there was a weeping willow, it hung down low, its leaves and branches were like drapes, hiding something below like a precious secret. 

Thor knew that he should go, back to Sif and back to the kingdom, but he was too curious. The boy quickly made his way along the river whilst being pushed along by the current. He came to a stand still once he reached the draperies of leaves and cautiously looked through the gaps. There was something there, Thor could see with ease. A long arching shape, hiding away in the shade. It was a boat, the sides were smoothed away by water and algae began to slowly crawl up, but it was no rotten. There was something inside. 

With excitement, Thor pushes aside the branches and stepped inside. Once in the shaded haven, Thor instantly froze. The boat was well carved with ceremonial imagery and runes, it was a funeral boat. There was a figure lying inside, a tall darkly dressed warrior, clothed in boiled leather and dark green draping fabrics with furs on his shoulders. Tightly gripped in his pale hands was a long sword with a simple handle and a polished blade, but on either side there were chips where the blade had hit bone or metal. 

The warriors complexion was deathly pale with a shade of purple under his eyes and only made whiter by his charcoal black hair. Every feature of the warrior was regal and proud. This was a man that was respected, maybe even feared. Thor could imagine him, standing along the Asgardian warriors, like a hero of the ancient tales and ballads. 

Around the death blessed warrior flowers had been laid, from head to toe. There were orange freesias, white geranium, blue larkspur, and white peony. Thor recognized some of these flowers only vaguely, he could remember them from his mothers garden, she had grown flowers of many sorts and these were only several of them. 

The flowers had been arranged with great care, cradling the majestic warrior like earthly clouds. Thor noticed that along with the sword clutched in the warriors hands was a small oak branch with three acorns, it was a symbol of immortality, Thor had seen it used before in funerals. 

The boy found little wonder in the flowers or the boat, he wanted to know who this warrior was, why was his body abandoned in the river. Will it be burned soon? And where is the gold, the offerings and the goods? 

To take a closer look at the strangers face, Thor clutched onto the edge of the boat and stood on his tip toes to lean over. His eyes were drawn away to the golden framing of the armour, carved with entwining snakes and snarling wolves. Fallen too far into his thoughts Thor was startled by a puff of air that brush past him, but there was no breeze. Thor looked down onto the warrior before him and to his horror he found that there was a every so slight rise and fall to the man’s chest. The warrior was alive. 

The breathing was barely visible, but it was there, and only now did Thor notice the slightly tint of colour to the man’s face that only a living man could have. Soon Thor’s fear was replaced with wonder, he felt as if he had just fallen into a world of stories that mother and Bragi would tell him as a child.

Eventually, Thor had to force himself away from the boat, the sun was slowly setting on the horizon and the dark was dawning, Thor had lost the track of time and he could already feel the scorning worry of mother and father. 

The prince scuttled from under the willow and climbed out from the river. He shuck the water from his boots and sprinted towards the kingdom of the oaks. Like a wild animal, Thor hopped along the roots of the oaks, never missing a step and did not pause for a moment to catch his breath. 

Once Thor reached the border of the forest he paused to look out onto the meadow. On the grass there was still a streak of red and white and a lock of gold. Sif remained at the meadow, waiting patiently for Thor to return. 

When the prince walked out of the shadows, the maiden sensed him like a wild cat and scowled at him angrily. ‘What took you so long!’ Then Sif noticed Thor’s empty hands. ‘And you didn’t even find the arrow.’ 

Thor felt non of Sif’s anger, he only pushed her gloomy mood further. ‘Were you worried?’ He asked as he plucked the bow from the grass and slung it onto his shoulder whilst Sif did the same. 

A growl emerged from Sif but she did not saying anything further. Without looking back she began to make her way back to the palace. 

‘I guess that was a yes!’ Thor called out as he sped up his pace to not lose the maiden. Behind the smirk, Thor held his teeth tightly clenched, he wanted to tell his most trusted friend of what he had found out beyond the woods in the river. But who knew what dark secret Thor had found. 

The child’s curiosity was bubbling and boiling, Thor knew that nothing would hold him back from discovering who the warrior was.


	2. Chapter 2

The two young warriors-to-be rushed through the gates of the Asgardian palace, their speeding steps were slowed by the increasing crowds. The noise was deafening and the children forced themselves through the tightly packed bodies. They waved ‘goodbye’ to each other and separated in different directions. 

This scenery was not so strange to Thor. People rushed through the streets day and night, there were market and taverns spread around the palace, and many people brought goods in and out of the gates. This was not so different until Thor saw the crowds split creating a cleared path for a small procession. Along the path moved a small group of guards, they were escorting a line of mounted horses, followed by what seemed like servants. 

Thor knew that these people were guests, but he did not bother see their faces, he rushed towards the open doors of the palace where he could already see his mother, the ever glowing hostess that would greet the guests. Father was no where to be seen.

When Thor reached his mother, she scolded him for disappearing for so long and tearing apart his clothes so ruthlessly. Frigga shooed him away to make himself look like the prince he was.

Only in the last moment did Thor turn to see those who arrived horse back clad in gold and silk. Atop the white stallion at the front of the line was a life nourished, smiling, sun kissed man with a glowing essence to him. He was no bulky warrior, but slender and regal. Thor instantly recognized the handsome arrogant man as Bragi, his half brother. (1) 

Before Thor could call out a greeting, the maids ushered him into the corridors to his rooms. They force him to scrub away every spec of dirt from his hair and skin then he let them fuss over his clothes until Thor’s ears ache from the high pitched chattery of the maids’. 

Eventually, Thor escapes. Without pausing for a moment he aims for the great feasting hall, he knew that is where mother and father would want to see him, greeting the guests and giving warm smiles. 

As it was expected, all the tables in the feasting hall were mounted with food and drink, all presented and smelling deliciously. Thor could feel his mouth water, but this was not food for him. He had other plans. 

The young prince began to make his way along the tables, searching for Bragi or his wife Idunn. All around Thor clothes smeared into a blur of colours and voices became one like a chaotic choir. 

When Thor thought that he saw a glimpse of a familiar chestnut coloured head, he lost it again and with frustration he began his searches again. Thor turned and a set of hands slithered around his waist and pulled him into an embrace. 

For the sake of the beloved theatrics Thor yelped in shock and began to kick, as if in struggle. The moment those hands touched him and a chuckle sounded with a puff of warm wine laced breath, Thor knew who it was. 

‘Let go of me!’ Thor shouted. The prince was not the one for the dramatics, but Bragi seemed to be oh so determined to be a trickster, a deviant, but never succeeded to be one. What ever kept Bragi smiling was fine with Thor.

‘Is that how you greet your brother.’ Bragi laughed as he finally untangled his arms from around Thor. 

The prince laughed, ‘I am sorry, you startled me.’ He pulled his brother into a proper embrace, ‘Welcome home.’

Despite for Bragi being an AEsir he would live in the realm of Vanir with Freya and Frey. Bragi’s family rarely saw him, it was a relief for his wife, but the reason was unspoken. Thor had witnessed why, and it was then that he lost his interest in Bragi’s tales and poetry, he no longer felt love and admiration towards his half brother. 

‘You have grown strong Thor, just wait till you become a man, you will become the strongest warrior there ever was.’ Thor laughed away Bragi’s compliment. 

A small idea pestered the young man. Bragi knew many of the Asgardian wars, he was participated during many. No story had escaped the God's grasp, no matter how feeble it was. Surely Bragi would know of the slumbering warrior. He had little liking towards his father and Frigga, so Thor doubted that he would spill his discovery.

‘Can you keep a secret.’ In a hushed voice Thor asked Bragi. Again, it was the theatrics that interested the quick worded God. 

‘Of course Thor, what is it?’ There was a glint of mischief in Bragi’s eyes, and interest too. 

‘Today I went beyond the garden, then beyond the forest. I found new land that I never seen before. Do you know of the place which I speak of?’ Thor asked.

‘Yes, of course I do. I spent years upon years turning over every stone and climbing every tree. Now tell me, what did you find?’

Thor looked left and right, as if searching for a unwanted listener, but of course, no one payed any attention to them. Maybe except for Idunn who was watching her husband glumly, hiding her blushed face under the curtain of her golden hair. ‘I found something strange, a boat in a river, and in the boat was a man, a warrior, he was unconscious and it looked as if he was prepared for a funeral. Have you seen him?’ Thor carried on.

‘Yes, I have-‘ Bragi was cut off by Thor who forgot all about his mask. ‘Who is he? Can you tell me? Did you know him?’ 

Bragi quickly covered the boys mouth with one of his hands in the only hope to silence him. ‘Did you try to wake him?’

Thor shuck his head from side to side in denial. The though of trying to wake the warrior never came to him. 

‘Why?’ The older God asked, taking away his hand. Bragi’s joyous face now looked solemn, wasting no time on pulling his cracked lips into a smile. 

‘I don’t know.’ Thor paused. ‘Maybe I knew that there was no point, I knew that magic had a part in it, so I didn’t bother. Now, can you tell me about him.’

A smile split Bragi’s expression again. ’Do something for me first.’

‘Ask for whatever you want.’

‘Tomorrow morning meet me on the edge of the forest and we will go down to the boat in the river. When we are there, try to wake him. When you do as I say, I will give you the path towards knowing who this man is.’ 

Thor quickly and foolishly agreed to Bragi’s condition. He then left his brother to feast, Thor’s heart beat all too quickly with anticipation. This is a naive child’s quest, but Thor still followed every trail and word that could lead him to the tail of the slumbering warrior. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) And I shit you not, technically Bragi is Thor's brother. They both share the same father, and there is a possibility of Frigga being Bragi's mother.


End file.
